


The American Businessman

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Alternate Universe - World War II, Banter, Kink, M/M, Overstimulation, Resolved Sexual Tension, Silence Kink, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: Robert Downey, American businessman, and Tom Holland, British dancer, have more in common than anyone realizes. Spy AU set in WWII.Or, Five Times Tom Found Robert Irresistible.
Relationships: Robert Downey Jr./Tom Holland
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The American Businessman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vandoorne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandoorne/gifts).



> Please excuse any historical accuracies. For this particular fic, I didn't want to delve into the horrors of war and espionage, and so this is a romanticized treatment.

“You’ll work with one of our American contacts,” Agent Watts said, handing a dossier to Tom. “He’s an old hand at this sort of thing, so that should compensate for your inexperience.”

Tom tried to not to bristle at the comment as he opened the file. The photograph was of a man in a suit -- dark hair, dark eyes, well-trimmed beard, a little more beautiful than handsome if Tom were to be honest about it.

“He’s a businessman from California,” Agent Watts added, “But we don’t hold that against him. Much. Mr. Downey is known to be a great sponsor of the arts, so that suits your little cover act brilliantly.”

Tom frowned again -- he had trained as a dancer for years and had only been recruited as a spy for His Majesty’s government a few months back, so it was hardly the case that his first solo tour on the Continent was just a ‘cover act.’ Still, he had to stay focused; he knew that Watts saw him as a naive 23-year-old with no real skills, and both his patriotism and his competitiveness drove him to prove the silver-spooned wanker wrong. 

“Does he have special skills?” Tom asked. 

“He’s excessively wealthy, terribly charming, and friends with half of Hollywood and all of Washington, and everyone in Paris will be clamoring for his attention, so yes, that’s quite an advantage, don’t you think? You’ll meet him for drinks in London tomorrow evening, shortly before you catch your boat.”

“Is he taking the same boat over?”

“Of course not. But keep in mind that he’s an essential part of our plans there. Make a good impression, lad -- if he doesn’t think you can handle the work, the operation will be canceled. Remember, a spy must be inconspicuous even if he’s the center of attention.”

Tom sighed and stared at the photograph. He told himself that if he just pretended not to be nervous, it would be fine.

\--

Mr. Downey was looking at Tom, head tilted. His expression was hard to read, but his large dark eyes were even more captivating than in the photos. 

Tom swallowed nervously. He reached out his hand. “I’m Tom. It’s nice to meet you.”

Watts sighed loudly. The man who was trying to steal Watts’ briefcase, whom Tom had just very conspicuously knocked down, was groaning from the floor. 

Robert took Tom’s hand and shook it, then looked over at Watts. “He’s great,” he said to Watts, then turned back to Tom and winked. “This’ll work out just fine.”

Tom smiled, a little out of breath for some reason. His first mission was a go.

\--

“So what’d you think?” Tom asked. He wiped some sweat off his forehead. It was a vigorous dance routine, with modern elements, and a few moves drawn from burlesque just to make the audience feel that they were in on a secret little scandal. 

Robert nodded. “It was quite something.” He smiled briefly, then leaned down to whisper in Tom’s ear, hot breath and the occasional brush of beard: “So here’s the deal - after the performance, you make nice with Monsieur Martin. I’ll suggest a trip to his wine cellar and he’ll want to bring you along. Once we’re in his house, I’ll distract him and you’ll have to get into his office to find the documents - but it’s locked and the only way to get in without attention--”

“Through the south window, right above the kitchen, I know. Hey, Robert-”

“And then once you have the documents, come back into the kitchen-”

“I know, but listen, there’s someone watching us,” Tom whispered.

“What?”

“There’s a man over there who’s-”

“Don’t look at him,” Robert whispered, an order.

“Okay.”

“Did he look like he’s here to attack us or that he’s wondering what we’re saying?”

“The second thing. He works backstage so he’s probably wondering why you’re back here.”

“Men like me go where they want.”

“But he’s probably wondering why you’re talking to some guy who dances.”

Robert leaned back a little and smiled. “I’ll have you know I’m a passionate advocate for the arts.”

“Of course you are. But he keeps staring at us.” 

“Look at me, not him,” Robert said. Tom looked in his eyes. “We’re going to give him a reason that we’re back here, okay?”

Tom had a feeling that he knew what was coming next. At least, he hoped he did.

Robert moved his hands on to Tom’s hips, looking in his eyes until Tom nodded his assent. Then he pressed Tom lightly back against the wall and kissed him, long and deep and eager. 

When he pulled back, Tom let out a little moan, then felt a little embarrassed - he didn’t want to come off as a naive young thing who got his mind blown by a little tongue. After all, Tom had been a professional dancer and hanging out in bohemian circles since he was eighteen, having countless and delightful affairs with both men and women, and Robert was probably just some repressed American who had never done more than a quick one night stand with another man. 

“I mean, if that’s what you think a good kiss is,” Tom said, shrugging. “I thought you were one of those men who really goes after what he wants.”

Robert narrowed his eyes, clearly knowing Tom’s game. He moved back in, one hand sliding up Tom’s chest, the other gently holding Tom’s jaw. He pressed his tongue into Tom’s mouth, hard circles, stopping only to whisper again in Tom’s ear, this time a list of things his dance routine had made him imagine doing to Tom’s body. 

When he finally paused, the man watching was long gone, apparently satisfied that their business together was personal and not suspicious. 

“Yes, well, quite good work maintaining cover,” Tom said, catching his breath.

Robert gently ran his thumb along Tom’s cheek. “I’m here to make sure you’re well taken care of,” he said, veneer of suave charm back, but with a wicked look that answered Tom’s question; no, it wasn’t just for the cover.

Well, Tom never was one to look before he leaped. “Now, as the man who’s supposed to be training me, I suggest that you think of a suitable reward for when I successfully pilfer those documents from Martin.”

“Just be safe and don’t get cocky. You’ll get your reward.”

\--

“Eat this,” Robert said, putting a bowl of soup in front of Tom. His voiced was clipped; he was still angry that Tom had gone off book.

Way off book.

Tom took a spoonful into his mouth.

“I’m sorry I disobeyed orders. Okay? What do you want me to say? Are you… going to tell Watts to pull me out of the field?”

“Do you want me to?” Robert said, sitting down at the table next to Tom. It seemed like a serious question, and not just the start of another round of yelling.

“No. Please, don’t. It’s just - if it were one of your friends, wouldn’t you do the same?”

Tom didn’t regret rescuing his childhood friend Jacob. He just regretted the part where he got caught and almost killed. If Robert hadn’t tracked him down and taken out three guards, they would have never rescued Jacob, though. And Tom would be, well….

Robert sighed. “Loyalty is a good quality. Secrecy isn’t.”

“Says the spy.”

Robert gave him a sharp look.

“Sorry,” Tom said. “I shouldn’t have miscalculated.”

“Wrong. There’s a reason why spies get partnered up. We trust each other precisely because there’s no one else we can trust.”

“Sorry that I broke protocol.”

“You think this is about protocol?! If I had been two minutes later, I would have found your body!!” Robert covered his face with his hands. Tom was taken aback by the outburst. Robert was always cool, always had his head on straight. But now Robert seemed... right on the edge of losing it. It made Tom feel guilty - of course it did - but it also made him feel something else.

Tom stared. “Huh. I didn’t realize."

His calm seemed to make Robert angrier. “Realize what?”

“I thought I was hopelessly in love with you and you were just having a little fun. Turns out, I wasn’t so hopeless after all.”

Robert looked at him for a long time. “If you think declaring your love will make me less angry at you, you’ve got another thing coming,” he finally muttered, but there was no heat in it.

“No more secrets, then. I promise,” Tom said. 

“I’m still mad. That smile’s not getting you out of this.”

Tom just kept smiling.

\--

_Years later…_

Tom whimpered as Robert sucked a bruise onto the back of Tom’s shoulder while sliding two fingers in and out of Tom.

“Quiet,” Robert whispered. “You still need to work on being inconspicuous.” They were taking a train to the Alps, and only a thin curtain separated them from the hallway.

“The war’s over. I don’t need more training.”

“The world’s still a complicated place. People like us will always need skills,” Robert said, biting down on the bruise.

Tom suppressed a squeal. “You know that the other dancers in the changing room will see that?”

“Good. I want them to know that you belong to someone,” Robert said, knowing full well how much Tom loved it when he talked like that.

“You’re incorrigible,” Tom said, trying not to grunt as Robert curved his fingers just so.

“Shhh. Remember, this is an exercise in not being noticed. Not a peep.” He took an ice cube from his cocktail glass and slid it along Tom’s stomach while sucking again on the bruise, pushing Tom even closer to the point when he would be completely, ecstatically overwhelmed. 

Tom bit his lip to keep silent, thinking back to the first time they met, to all the adventures they’d had, letting all of his feelings fill up his chest.

And then Robert’s hands did something absolutely magical and all he felt was bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompts: WWII AU where they're both spies, AU where RDJ is a businessman and Tom is an upstart from Britain, RDJ mentoring Tom who is trying to find his footing, being undercover and getting frisky as a distraction, marking, biting, fingering, overstimulation.


End file.
